MADRIGAL
Have we not had our share
Of pleasure too?
No Past the glad heart cowers,
No memories dark;
Only the sunny hours
The dial mark.
MADRIGAL
DORUS TO LYCORIS, WHO REPROVED HIM FOR INCONSTANCY
Why should I constant be?
The bird in yonder tree,
This leafy summer,
Hath not his last year's mate,
Nor dreads to venture fate
With a new-comer.
Why should I fear to sip
The sweets of each red lip?
In every bower
The roving bee may taste
(Lest aught should run to waste)
Each fresh-blown flower.
The trickling rain doth fall
Upon us one and all;
The south-wind kisses
The saucy milkmaid's cheek,
The nun's, demure and meek,
Nor any misses.
Then ask no more of me
That I should constant be
Nor eke desire it;
Take not such idle pains
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